


After The Strike

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Depression, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Self-Harm, Swearing, The Refuge, Violence, jack/spot used to be a thing i will take that to my grave, lots of triggers folks, oh gosh im so sorry jojo, smalls is female fight me on that, sort of jatherine but its actually jackcrutchie, the katherine and specs brotp we need
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jack is worried about Crutchie after he comes back from the Refuge, and Katherine wants to write an article to highlight youth abuse so there is a better chance of Snyder getting convicted for his crimes. (Chapter titles are the character name of the POV)





	1. Jack

**Author's Note:**

> This will hopefully be kinda long, but it's also gonna be very sad and angsty, I hope you enjoy!

"You wanna sell togethah today, Crutch? Jus' 'cause Kath says she wants ta see me sell, but I really ain't all that interestin' ta watch." I offer Crutchie, who is standing next to me, reading through the day's pape. I'se is probably plenty interesting selling on my own, but I want to make sure Crutchie is alright. He looks pretty beat up, and that's only what I can see. I know he must be holding in the worst of the pain.

"Sure." Crutchie replies, folding the pape and placing it back into his sack.

"Great!" I say happily, and we head out of Newsies Square towards a bank I sometimes sell near. We sell our papes for a while, Crutchie constantly trying to make Katherine laugh by using different funny accents while selling his papes. And then it all goes to hell. Crutchie offers a pape to a passing businessman and the businessman declines. That's normal. But then the man takes a good look at Crutchie. The man kicks his crutch away from him and mumbles a slur before walking away.

"That son of a-" I start to say, ready to run after the man and soak him.

"Jack, no." Katherine says, taking arm to prevent me from running away. Crutchie picks his crutch up from the ground and dusts it off a bit. He tries to smile, but I can see the red in his eyes. Katherine puts a hand on his shoulder, probably to comfort him, but it's a mistake.

Crutchie flinches away at her touch, and Katherine drops her hand immediately.

“Crutchie!” I exclaim. I see the fear in his eyes. I’ve been there before.   


“I’se is fine.” Crutchie says, taking a deep breath. He tries smiling again but I can see he’s faking.   


“Crutchie. I’m really sorry. I didn’t-“ Katherine starts to say.   


“It’s fine, Kath. I’se is fine. It’s not your fault.” Crutchie says, waving her off.   


“It’s okay to not be alright, Crutchie. You remember what happened to Race when he came back. And me...” I say.   


“Well, I’se is fine. An’ if you’ll excuse me, I have some papes ta sell.” Crutchie says coldly, stalking off down the street.   


“What was that about?” Katherine asks. I sigh deeply.   


“Kids get real messed up in the Refuge. It ain’t just bein’ beat up. Ya get nightmares. Ya get paranoid. Every touch is meant to hurt ya, and no one is there ta protect ya. Youse is useless, no one-“ I say.   


“Jack. You’re spiraling.” Katherine says, snapping me out of my rant.   


“When I escaped the last time, I couldn’t let no one touch me for weeks. I couldn’t even get out of bed for a week and a half.” I explain.   


“What about Race?” Katherine asks tentatively.   


“That’s for ‘im ta tell. All I’ll say is he wouldn’t even talk ta anyone until I came back.” I say.   


“You guys talkin’ ‘bout me?” A familiar voice asks. I turn around and see Race standing behind me, bag of papes almost empty and usual cigar dangling from his mouth.   


“Crutchie ain't alright, but he refuses to admit it. I was jus’ tryin’ ta explain ta Kath why the Refuge messes kids up so bad.”   


“An’ she wants to know why I have a mental breakdown whenever someone mentions that shithole.” Race finishes.   


“You’se is doin’ a lot better.” I comment.   


“Jack, I was last in there years ago. I should not still be havin’ nightmares every other night.” Race says disdainfully, kicking a pebble with his toe.   


“Race, it’s okay.” I say.   


“Whatever.” He says, absentmindedly chewing on his cigar.   


“Is Crutchie going to be alright selling alone?” Katherine asks.   


“Normally, yes. After the Refuge, probably not.” I say. “Race, do ya mind jus’ goin’ ta make sure he’s doin’ good? Don’t be too obvious or nothin’, I jus’ wanna make sure he ain’t too hurt ta get back ta the Lodging House.” Race nods and heads off down the sidewalk.   


“I’se is worried about ‘im.” I comment.   


“About Crutchie?” Katherine asks.   


“Everyone. Crutchie, Race, Davey, Specs, hell, even me.”   


“Is Specs alright?”   


“No one's alright. Spec is the one that visits the Refuge the most, but that place messed ‘im up bad.”   


“I didn’t realize how bad it is for everyone... I would love to write an article to give a voice to struggling youth, to make sure that Snyder actually gets convicted for all the horrible stuff he did at the Refuge, but I’m not sure that that’s such a great idea. I wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.”   


“That would- that actually might work well. It might make sure the Spider gets convicted.”   


“I could publish it with some of your drawings?”   


“I sold all my papes, we can go back to the Lodging House now and I can show you some.”   


“Okay.” Katherine smiles at me, and we walk back to the Lodging House hand in hand. And then we’re up on the rooftop and I regret all of my life’s decisions. My tube of drawings is in its usual spot, but I suddenly feel very shy about showing Katherine my art. I take a deep breath and walk over to the tube anyway. I pull out the large stack of paper and sit down in my bedroll to go through it. I motion for Katherine to sit next to me.   


“I drew this one the first night I met Davey.” I say, showing Katherine a drawing of Davey.   


“It’s really good.” Katherine comments. I blush and put the drawing back in my tube. I show Katherine several more drawings, Crutchie, sunsets, every newsie, a few Spot Conlons that I try hiding from her (she steals them and looks at them anyway), and simple objects, all of which I put back in my tube, leaving a small stack of bent and crumpled drawings of the Refuge. I shove them in Katherine’s lap, not wanting to look at them. I’m always modest about my drawing ability because I’m really not that good, but my drawings of the Refuge always seem to be the most realistic ones. That’s what upsets me the most. Katherine it’s through the stack one by one, but she stops at one point and taps my shoulder.   


“Jack?” She asks softly. “What’s this one?” She shows me a drawing that is mostly black shading.   


“That,” I say slowly, taking a deep breath, “Is the basement.”   


“It just looks all black.”   


“That’s because that’s what it mostly is. It’s dark, there’s a staircase, a small space under the staircase, and if you look closely in the corner, there’s me.” I point to all the different things I mention, all of them barely discernible unless you’ve been to the basement.   


“That’s horrible.” Katherine says. I can see her staring at the tiny figure in the corner, curled up in the fetal position, surrounded by shadows.   


“You can keep looking through these if ya want. I’se is jus’ gonna go check on the fellas.” I say, standing up and and climbing down the fire escape. I can’t deal with memories from the Refuge right now.   


“Jack?” Davey asks as I come down the ladder.   


“Hey Dave.”   


“Race and Crutchie are giving each other panic attacks, which is giving Specs a panic attack, Albert is almost giving himself a panic attack trying to be you, I’m going crazy trying to keep the littles calm, and the whole Lodging House is basically going crazy.”   


“Shit.”   


“Yep.”   


“Okay, this’ll be fine. Go up to the roof and get Katherine, I’ll go try and help Crutchie, Race, Albert, and Specs.”   


“All four of them at once?”   


“Yeah. I can handle them.”

“Okay.” Davey says, and I walk past him into the fourth floor bunk room as he goes up to ladder to the roof. I enter the bunk room and and find Specs and Romeo huddled together in a corner, Albert running around like crazy running his hands through his hair and going around to everyone, Boots and Skittery are clinging onto Mike’s legs, and the window to the fire escape is open. I can hear crying from outside of it. I can do this. I take Albert’s shoulder as he rushes past me.

“Al. Calm down. It’s okay.” I say.

“But I- and Racer! And Crutchie! And- LES PUT THAT DOWN OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL TELL YOUR BROTHER WHAT YOU WERE DOING EARLIER TODAY!” Albert finishes the sentence in a shout across the room to Les.

“Albert. Calm. Down.” I say.

“Right. Right. Okay. I can calm down.”

“Yes. You can. Now what you are going to do right now is follow me out onto the fire escape, and you will talk to Race. Can you do that without having a mental breakdown?” I ask cautiously.

“Yes.”

“Great! You’re doing great, Al.” I encourage. We climb out the window and join Race and Crutchie in the fire escape. They’re both giant messes. Race is crying his eyes out, and Crutchie is holding Race in his arms tenderly, but is also swearing his heart out.

“God.” I put my head in my hands.

“Racer?” Albert says tentatively. Race continues crying.

“Fuck off. I’ve got this.” Crutchie says.

“You’re doing great, Crutchie! I’se is sure you’se is doin’ Racer a load of good by swearing your ass off to ‘comfort’ him!” I say sarcastically.

“While you’ve been up in your penthouse doin’ who knows what?” Crutchie asks.

“Y’know what, Crutch? I get it. You’se is hurtin’. You’ve been through a lot of shit. We all know that! I’ve been to the Refuge four times! I know what happens there! You’se isn’t foolin’ anyone!”

“Howsabout you two go talk on the roof? I don’t think the yelling is doing much ta help Race.” Albert suggests.

“I’se is takin’ a walk.” I say, turning to go down the fire escape to the street.

“Oh no you are not!” Albert shouts, grabbing my arm. “You are not pulling another one over us Kelly! You are going up to your rooftop and you are going to talk to Crutchie!”

“Fine.” I say in a huff, pulling away from Albert and climbing back through the window. I stalk up to the rooftop and find my Refuge drawings gone. Good. Katherine took them. I let my legs dangle over the side of the roof, staring melancholily out at the streets. Crutchie comes up the ladder, hefting his crutch awkwardly onto the roof and joins me.

"I'se is sorry for tellin' you to fuck off." He says.

"It's fine. I'se is sorry for yellin'." I say.

"I jus', I don't want no one thinkin' I'se is weak. That I can't handle myself."

"Crutchie, you ain't weak. No one thinks you are."

"I was the only one who got arrested. Tons of newsies, all fightin' the bulls, an' I was the only one that didn't get away."

"It ain't your fault. If I hadn't been so scared, if I hadn't jus' stood there-"

"It's okay, Jack. We both messed up."

"We still need to talk about what happened though." I say, releasing a long breath I had't even realized I was holding in.


	2. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race has a mental breakdown. AKA: What's going through Race's mind as he cries into Crutchie's lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but here's some angsty Race.

The strike is over. Crutchie is back from the Refuge. I should feel happy.

Why do I not feel happy?

Maybe it's because the strike is over. The strike gave me somethin' ta fight for. Somethin' ta care 'bout.

But I know that's not it. I'se is overjoyed the strike is over. The fellas won't get their skulls busted by bulls an' goons, an' I can finally afford cheap cigars again.

 

The real reason I feel so empty, so alone, so sad, so hopeless, is the Refuge.

It's closed. I'se is safe. That's good. I should be happy.

But Crutchie. I know Crutchie must've gone through shit there. He's actin' all tough on the outside, pretendin' ta be happy an' fine, an' most fellas must think he woulda jus' stayed quiet at the Refuge, but I know Crutchie well enough ta know the truth.

I know Crutchie is a fighter.

I know Crutchie talked back, an' I know he fought too.

Maybe ta be like Jack, maybe ta be stronger than Jack, maybe jus' 'cause he's done wit' puttin' up wit' the shitty hand life dealt 'im, but he definitely fought. I can see it in his eyes. I can see in his eyes how much he is hurtin'. I can see 'im shy away when people try ta hug 'im again, scared of the touch. He reminds me of me.

 

But stronger.

 

Crutchie is stronger than me. When I came back from the Refuge the first time, I wouldn't talk ta no one 'kept Jack for a while. The second time I got back was even worse. I didn't talk to anyone,  _anyone_ for ages, an' I wouldn't let no one touch me. I was so busted up I couldn't get out of bed for weeks.

An' of course I still get the nightmares. They always seem so real. The pain, the hard basement floor, Snyder's sneering face, everything. I wake up screaming so many nights.

I couldn't even go visit Crutchie without breaking down. The first night Crutchie was gone, an' no one could find Jack, I slept up on the roof. I cried the whole night, an' Albert was there ta comfort me. The next mornin' I tried ta be as happy as possible, tryin' ta act like everythin' was normal. I woke up 5 times that night screamin my head off from the nightmares. The fourth night Crutchie was in the Refuge, the night before the rally, I visited him. Specs came wit' me, an' I climbed up to the window, I looked in at all the bunks, at all the faces, at Crutchie's bruised, bloody, and battered face and I couldn't say a word. Specs tales ta Crutchie, an' the whole time I jus' sat there.

An' then Snyder came. Specs an' I managed ta stay hidden from sight, but I still heard Crutchie's shouts and swears as he was dragged out of the bunk room, no doubt being taken to the basement.

Jack wasn't at the Lodging House again that night, but Davey said he probably jus' fell asleep in Medda's theatre.

An' then the rally. I could've killed Jack.

An' now Crutchie's back an' I don't know what ta do. I still haven't told anyone my full story, nothin' 'bout my father, the Refuge, or none of that. I know Crutchie will do the same thing, keep it all in. So I have to let it all out.

I cry.

And I cry.

And I cry.

I'se is sittin' wit' Crutchie, my head in his lap, an' I'se is jus' cryin'. But I have ta let 'im know it's okay ta talk. I can't let 'im make the same mistake I did.

"Crutchie, it's okay ta talk." I say between sobs.

"What?" He asks.

"I ain't nevah told no one my whole story, an' I don't want ya ta make the same mistake. It's the reason I'se got so many problems now. I nevah talked ta no one. Jus' know, it's okay ta talk."

"Right. Thanks."

Not knowing what else to say, my brain decides I need to cry more. So I do.


	3. Davey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey and Katherine talk for a little bit, and JoJo shows up and talks to Davey about the Refuge so Kath can have some material for her article.

"Kath?" I ask, climbing up the ladder onto the roof.

"Is everything all right, David?" Katherine looks up from the stack of papers she is leafing through.

"The Lodging House is going crazy." I run a hand through my hair as I sit down next to her on Jack's bedroll.

"Is everyone alright?"

"Not really. It's sort of complicated, but I think everything with Snyder and the Refuge is bringing up a lot of emotions for everyone."

"That's why Jack was showing me his drawings." Katherine explains. "I want to write an article highlighting the abuse of children, just to make sure Snyder actually gets convicted for his crimes, but now I'm not so sure it's a good idea to interview everyone about their experiences."

"It's probably not." JoJo says, climbing up onto the roof. "But I think I'll do anythin' ta get the Spider put away at this point. I don't wanna see my brothers havin' ta suffer like this anymore."

"You've been to the Refuge?" I ask, a bit surprised. JoJo always has a smile on his face, I can't imagine being that happy all the time after such a traumatic experience.

"Only once, an' definitely not for as long as some of the other fellas, but yeah." JoJo settles itself down in front of us, crosslegged.

"And you don't mind talking about it?" Katherine asks, pulling out her notebook.

"I-I guess not." JoJo says, and I notice his hands are shaking.

"Katherine, do you wanna go down and see how the littles are doing?" I suggest.

"Sure. Do you mind-" Katherine starts to hand me her notebook, but I push it away. Something tells me this will be a story I'll never forget. Katherine clambers down the ladder, and JoJo and I are alone.

"You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable." I remind JoJo. He's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

"No, it's fine. I gotta do this. For everyone." JoJo says, and I can tell he's steeling himself.

"Do you wanna come sit next to me?" I pat the section of bedroll that Katherine was sitting on.

"Sure. Thanks." JoJo moves next to me, and I notice the skin around his fingernails is bleeding. I take his hand to stop him from hurting himself anymore. "I became a newsie when I was around 8 or 9, I think." JoJo says. "The nuns couldn't afford ta keep me any longer, an' I had been beggin' ta be a newsie, so they took  me ta the Lodging House. I was 13 when I got arrested. It's crazy thinkin' that was only two years ago." JoJo chuckles a bit. "Boots had jus' come in, an' he needed some new socks, so I stole a pair. The bulls caught me in the streets. They roughed me up a bit an' sent me straight ta the Refuge." With his free hand, JoJo is messing with the hem of his trousers. "I got sentenced to three weeks for stealin'. Buttons was close ta the end of his sentence, but we stuck togethah for a few days 'fore he was released. I was alone for 'bout a week. For that whole week, I felt so... trapped. No one was there for me. For the first time in my life, I had no one watchin' my back. I guess Snyder must've noticed that, cause he took me down ta the basement. Not for too long, only for a few hours every other day, but..." JoJo pauses, obviously trying to hold back tears. I squeeze his hand a bit.

"That must have been so hard for you, JoJo." I say in a soft voice. I realize for the first time I truly have no idea what the Refuge was like. I've been... protected. Katherine  _needs_ to write this article. She has to show everyone what they've been blinded from.

"I fought back at first. I thought that was what I was supposed ta do. It only made him hurt me more." JoJo sniffles. "An' then one day Racer came in, an' I was so happy ta see 'im, so glad ta not be alone, but I also knew what that meant. It was Race's second time, an' Snyder remembered 'im. I had ta watch as he beat, dragged away, had ta listen ta his screams at night... I felt so useless. Everything seemed hopeless. There was no point ta anything anymore." JoJo's hands are still. "I got released and I came back to the Lodging House, but nothing had changed." JoJo's words are more carefully picked out now, his thick accent peeling away like old paint. "I was there, but I didn't feel like I was. Race was gone, Albert was arrested not too much later after I got back, and everything felt like it was falling apart. I wasn't sad, just empty. I couldn't feel anything. I had wished I was back at the Refuge, because at least Race would be there and at least the pain would mean I could feel. I knew Jack had a switch he kept, just for emergencies." JoJo takes a deep breath. "I took it and went out onto the fire escape. I-" JoJo stops speaking. His face is red, his eyes are puffy, and tears are streaming down his cheeks. He takes his hand away from mine and pulls up his shirt sleeve. 

 

There are scars, each one a thin red line, one stacked on top of the other.

 

"JoJo, I-" I'm shocked. I don't know what to say, what to do.

"It was the only thing that let me know I was still alive, that I could feel." JoJo sobs. "Henry found me one night. He told Jack, and after that..." JoJo takes a deep breath and wipes the tears away from his cheeks. "I got help. I was able to talk to Crutchie, Specs, Miss Medda, the nuns who raised me..."

"JoJo, I had no idea..."

"No one really does. They know I've been through some dark stuff, but not many folks know the specifics. Jack broke Race out of the Refuge, and then broke out Al, and things sort of moved back to normal. I still get thoughts sometimes, but I try to keep it all down. I stay smiling, because I'm afraid if I don't smile it will all come back. Part of why I'se is so nervous all the time I think." JoJo  laughs to himself, his accent slipping back in and tension somewhat relieved.

"JoJo, if ya ever need ta talk about any of this..." I say.

"Thanks, Dave. Jus', do me a favor an' don't tell Kath 'bout the later stuff?" JoJo asks.

"No problem. Thank you for trusting me with all of this. I promise I won't tell a soul."

"Thanks for listening', Dave. But uh, if ya don't mind, can we talk 'bout somethin' else now?"

"Sure." I think for a moment. "What's JoJo short for?"

JoJo grins.

**Author's Note:**

> Thans for reading! Please leave kudos or a comment, they make my day 10000000 times brighter! :)


End file.
